open to mutuals only. @indiestarter
the blue-lit numbers on the microwave read 2:14 AM, and the silence in the dorms was so heavy it felt loud.
hyunjae sat on the edge of his mattress, his forehead pressed against his knees. his throat burned with the familiar, acidic taste of exhaustion that never quite transitioned into sleep. across the hall, one of his group members snored faintly, a rhythmic reminder that everyone else had successfully managed to switch off their brains for the night. hyunjae couldn't. he never really could lately. every time he closed his eyes, his mind just looped back to the same, maddeningly constant anchor it had held onto since he was twelve years old : them.
he unlocked his phone, the harsh glare stinging his eyes, and stared at their name at the top of his chat log.
growing up, loving them had felt as natural and inevitable as breathing, but it had come to feel like carrying a glass of water filled to the absolute brim while walking a tightrope. one wrong tilt, one slip of the tongue, and everything would shatter. his parents' voices always echoed in the back of his mind whenever his thoughts ventured too far into the what-ifs their sharp, sunday-sermon condemnations of anything outside their rigid, conservative view of the world. he'd been raised to believe that the things he felt for them was a sin, a malfunction. and even now, independent and living out his dream as an idol, that deep-seated fear of ruining the one pure, uncomplicated friendship he had left kept his mouth shut. it was safer to be just hyunjae, the childhood best friend.
but tonight, the walls of his room felt like they were closing in, and the ache of wanting to just be near someone who knew him before the makeup and the stage lights was overwhelming.
his thumbs hovered over the keyboard. he typed out three different messages, deleting each one as soon as the cursor blinked. are you awake ? too intense. i miss you. too honest.
finally, he settled on something casual, a practiced mask of spontaneity.
hyunjae : han river ? i'm starving. i'i buy the ramen if you're up.
he didn't think ; he just hit send, immediately tossing the phone onto the blanket face-down as if it might explode.
ten minutes later, he was slipping into an oversized black hoodie, pulling a baseball cap low over his eyes, and adjusting a black mask over his face. the idol’s uniform for a midnight escape.
the night air by the han river was brisk, carrying the sharp, salty scent of the water and the distant hum of late-night highway traffic. hyunjae sat on the concrete steps near the convenience store, two steaming paper bowls of instant ramen settling between his sneakers, the warmth radiating through the cardboard. he had his knees pulled up to his chest, his eyes scanning the dimly lit walkway.
when their figure finally materialized under the glow of a distant streetlight, hyunjae felt his chest tighten in that familiar, agonizingly sweet way. they were wearing mismatched sweats, hair a messy, sleep-tousled halo. they looked so entirely, beautifully ordinary, completely removed from the polished, artificial world hyunjae spent his days navigating.
